Loving A Stranger

Whispers of the Unknown

The sun sat high in the sky, painting golden lines on the turbulent waters, as if it had touched them with a liquid fire that only it could handle. The rhythmic pounding of the sea against the shore should have been calming it always was. The sound had always been my haven, a constant lullaby in the storms of life. Today, the song was… off.

The breeze was soft but carried something heavy, a low, silent warning. The sun glinted on the water's surface in sharp shards, almost too brilliant, as if trying to distract me from looking too closely at the horizon.

Mom and I had set up a small space on the sand, the kind that was too generic to be conspicuous a pair of folding chairs, a large umbrella angled precisely to block the glare from our eyes, and a cooler stocked with fruit, crackers, and enough bottled water to drown any concern over dehydration. The air was perfumed with sunscreen and salt, the kind of combination that would usually cause my shoulders to drop and my heartbeat to slow. The distant sound of children laughing as they played drifted toward us, a happy melody that was summer's refrain.

"This was a great idea," I admitted, stretching my arms until my shoulders popped. "The beach always makes me feel… free.

Mom glanced over, her dark sunglasses hiding her eyes but not her smile. She rummaged through the cooler, pulling out a cold water bottle and handing it to me. "I know, sweetie. That's why I suggested it. You should enjoy yourself before college takes over."

College. The word was a lifeline in my brain, something I'd been trying to reach for months. Freedom. A fresh start. My own life. That was all I'd been thinking about in recent times packing my bags, meeting new people, turning into a new person. But today…

Today, something felt different.

Like I wasn't by myself, even being around strangers.

I opened the cap, the seal breaking with a hiss that seemed louder than it needed to be. I drank, the cool water going down my throat, but the feeling didn't dislodge the tight knot building in my stomach.

I let my eyes stroll the beach in an easy glance. Tourists stretched out on towels, their skin glimmering in the sunlight. Surfers sat on the waves far out, waiting with the stillness of stalkers for the perfect instant to strike. A family huddled in the sand nearby, shaping the crude walls of a castle that would be washed away by the tide before the sun set below the horizon. Everything seemed usual.

And yet…

The feeling at the back of my neck persisted, a prickling awareness I couldn't explain. My skin was too tight, too warm. The wind should have cooled me, but it did no more than cause the feeling to increase.

I wriggled in my seat, fighting the urge to rub my arms. Don't be an i***t, Tasha. You're imagining things.

But the feeling did not go away.

"I'm going for a walk," I told Mom, already propelling myself out of the chair.

She looked in my direction, her face obscured by those sunglasses, but her voice was suspicious. "Stay where I can see you."

I waved my hand over my shoulder, trying to sound casual. "Yeah, yeah."

The sand scorched my n***d feet at first, but close to the water's edge, the heat melted into a refreshing coolness. Each wave rushed up to kiss my ankles before pulling back again, leaving my skin tingling with sensation. The air tasted different down here sharper, saltier, alive.

And then I saw it.

At first, it was nothing more than a darker patch of sand, the way wet sand forms clumps sometimes. But as I got closer, the shape defined itself. Lines and curves twisted into a pattern that appeared deliberate. No scribble of a child, no thoughtless drag of a stick.

A symbol.

Its sinuous swirls and spiked edges spoke of precision. The outside lines curled inward in a whirlpool pattern, ending in a center that was sealed with a broken spiral. I had no idea what it was, but something in my chest tightened as if I should. The design pulsed not visibly, but in the way I felt it, like it had a heartbeat of its own. The lines were impossibly dark against the pale beach, as if the grains themselves had been dyed.

I stopped, my heart pounding in my ears.

Bending, I reached out to it, my fingers tentative, my mind torn between curiosity and the desire to flee.

The moment my fingers made contact with the pattern, a sharp, burning shock shot up my arm, whiplashing into my shoulder. I yelled, jerking back, grabbing my hand.

The sand beneath the symbol shifted, darkening, as though something beneath was trying to push through.

And then—

Eyes.

Golden. Glowing. Not reflecting the sun, but radiating their light from far within the grains. They locked onto me, steady, unblinking.

A growl low, guttural grumbling through the air, vibrating against my ribs.

I spun around so fast I nearly fell.

The beach was the same. Families still played. Vendors still cried out their prices. The waves still rolled in and out in relentless rhythm. No one else reacted. No one else heard.

But I did.

My breathing accelerated, the hairs bristling on my arms. My fists tightened, not in preparation for defiance, but in opposition to the shaking in my fingertips.

I retreated, restraining myself from flight. Every impulse was screaming at me to get as much distance between myself and that mark as I could.

With every step, I could sense it—the presence of something being watched, something waiting.

Something that had discovered me.

Sleep didn't come easily that evening. My mind replayed the encounter in the sand, the way those amber eyes had appeared to see through me rather than at me. By the time exhaustion eventually took me under, I knew that it wasn't rest I was going into.

It was waiting for me.

The woods continued endlessly, the trees growing so tall their tops dissolved into the night sky. Their trunks were charred, not with fire but with something old, something that had seeped into them like a poison. Shadows didn't just cling to the trunks they squirmed. They coiled and curved like living things, pulsating in unison.

The air was damp, the kind that stuck in your lungs and wouldn't leave.

"Tasha.

The voice was low, almost a whisper, but it slid under my skin like a knife. I turned, searching the dark.

"Come to me…"

It wasn't just sound it was a pull, a tug in my chest that stuttered my heartbeat. The voice was low, commanding, and appallingly familiar.

Golden eyes materialized in the dark, smoldering like twin coals. They didn't just look at me they laid their claim with a gaze alone.

I attempted to stir, but my body wouldn't obey. The shadows started to coalesce, pulling together, taking form.

And then he stepped forward.

A man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with the sort of presence that made the air grow dense. His authority wasn't in his posture, but in the way the world seemed to curve subtly around him, as if he were the one who belonged here and I was the interloper.

His aroma struck me first wild earth, rain-soaked pine, and something razor-edged beneath it, something predatory.

A Lycan.

All the stories I'd ever heard about them shredded through my mind in tatters lethal, unpredictable, governed by laws older than the moon.

He paced the distance between us slowly, his footsteps creating tiny tremors in the ground.

"Who are you?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the beating of my heart.

He didn't answer. His lips parted, but the words I heard didn't come from his mouth. They flowed directly into my mind, wrapping around me like a fetter.

You are mine.

I woke with a fierce gasp, the tone of his voice resonating inside me like smoke that wouldn't disperse.

Fire poured through my veins, thick and consuming. My skin flamed, my heart raced, and I couldn't catch my breath.

I reeled to the mirror, my reflection blurred into view. My large, feral eyes stared back at me until they didn't.

For the briefest shimmer of a heartbeat, a bleed of gold seeped into my irises.

I blinked.

Gone.

My hands gripped the dresser until my knuckles whitened. My body hummed with the indescribable, the alive thing inside me.

Something had started.

And it wasn't going to stop.